


Tupping

by ferretbaby



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: Alpha Thorin, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Domestic, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Future Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Omega Bilbo, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-17
Updated: 2013-09-29
Packaged: 2017-12-05 14:08:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/724157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferretbaby/pseuds/ferretbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The alphas go into rut after battle as a result of all that adrenaline. Bilbo sits back with the betas and laughs, or tries to.</p>
<p>Written in responds to all the A/B/O fics that have only omegas suffering! Seriously, so unfair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

***

 

Bilbo sat beside Gandalf and watched. He’d never seen anything like the behavior of the dwarves before. They should be resting, tending to their injuries, and establishing their camp, but instead the majority of the Company were doing the most peculiar actions the hobbit had ever witnessed from them before.

“Is…Is it normal for Dori to do that?” Bilbo leaned towards Ori. They’d been able to scrape together a small fire at the base of the Carrock, where Bombur was at least attempting to catalogue the provisions they still had for a small lunch. Only Ori, Bombur, Óin, and the wizard were apart from the curious melee happening at the edge of the woods.

Ori glanced up from his knitting and shrugged. “It happens sometimes, after a battle.”

“He feels the need to urinate on all the trees?” Bilbo blinked. It wasn’t odd for someone to handle their business at the edge of camp, but Dori was on his fifth tree by now.

Gandalf, who’d been smoking merrily since they settled, laughed gently. “No, no Bilbo. It is just rut, the alphas go into it after a battle sometimes.”

“Rut?” Bilbo squeaked. He’d heard about the affliction the alpha Men of Bree went into once a year and it sounded like nasty business. The Shire was composed completely of omegas and betas, so their knowledge of alphas was second hand. From the news they received from travelers passing through, alphas were prone to attack other alphas and sometimes rape any omega that might be around if they were in rut. “Is it safe for us to be here?”

“Of course it is lad, they are dwarves not orcs.”

 Bilbo stared up at Gandalf, wondering if the wizard had forgotten. “B-but I’m an omega.”

“Yes you are.” Gandalf nodded, passing over some Old Toby for Bilbo to fill his pipe. “You are perfectly safe here Mister Baggins, your virtue will remain intact. Alpha dwarves are not beast to lay themselves over any beta or omega to pass them. They will fight mostly amongst themselves to run off all the extra energy.”

Thorin, who’d been pacing the whole camp with his lips curled back, made his round in front of the small group and Bilbo had to quickly move his feet out of the way or risk having them stepped on.

“I didn’t know you were an omega,” Ori said, shuffling closer. “We hardly have any in Ered Luin they are incredibly rare and most dwarves are alphas. Even betas are uncommon. It’s why our birth rates are so low.”

“We haven’t had an alpha born in the Shire in almost four hundred years,” Bilbo explained, a spark of shared knowledge in his eyes. “Most hobbits are omegas, and we have to use neem oil and smartweed to keep our population regulated or we’d be overflowing with babies after a heat cycle.”

“How fascinating,” Ori whispered, pulling out his book to take notes. “Do you mind if I ask a few questions. I’ve never been friends with an omega before so I’ve never had to opportunity to note their differences.”

Bilbo glanced towards the alphas, but none seemed to be paying them any attention. Fili and Kili were scrapping the ground with their shoes like chickens and grunting at each other. Glóin seemed particularly determined to cut down a tree with his axe as he growled out a half-story about his beautiful wife. Dwalin and Balin, who were closest, had their foreheads together and bellowing war-cries at each other while flexing their arms. Curiously, Bofur and Nori were nowhere to be seen, but Bifur was standing agitated halfway down the trail leading towards the river with Bofur’s hat in hand, thus Bilbo wasn’t too worried.

Maybe it wasn’t unusual for alpha’s to couple with each other like omegas did in the Shire? If dwarves were really lacking betas and omegas in their ranks, it would be cruel to limit their pairing to only those of other dynamics. Bilbo had heard rumors that Men didn’t allow same status pairings, but from what he understood they had a wide mix of alphas, betas, and omegas so one wasn’t limited by restricted choices. It still seemed unkind by hobbit standards though.  

Bilbo turned back to Ori, a pleasant smile on his face. “What would you like to know?”   

“Um,” Ori blushed. “How—how many heats do you have?”

The hobbit tapped his chin, thinking hard. “Usually? Maybe one a year, just for interest’s sake. I have an herbal supplement though that controls my heats, without it I’d have about four a year.”

Ori stared unabashed at Bilbo, gapping a bit. “F-four heats?”

Bilbo nodded, blowing a smoke-ring. “Yes. Is that odd?”

“No! Not at all, I just, I’m a beta so I don’t have heats or ruts. It seems unbearably inconvenient to be driven to have sex at anytime you’re not ready to.”

“It’s not mindless sex,” Bilbo scolded. “You just pick someone you’d like to spend time with and when the time hits, you both shut yourselves behind the door and enjoy your pleasures. If I don’t want to have sex I don’t have to, I can take care of myself just fine. As for time constraints, heat cycles are pretty regular so I can plan around them.”

Ori wrung his hands together, turning his face away from Bilbo’s frowning and Gandalf’s smothered laughs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply. I just hear things. They say an omega’s heat is wild and demanding, and if not sated there could be complications.”

Bilbo felt the irritation he was feeling a moment ago melt into cool understanding. Maybe it was just a misunderstanding between their races. “I don’t know about dwarf omegas, but hobbit omegas are not nearly that untamed in heat. Many of us live regular lives and some never mate at all. We are not ruled by our dynamic.”

The poor young dwarf nodded wildly, quickly scribbling a note in his book. “Of course. I should have known.”

“If anything I feel sorry for alphas,” Bilbo whispered, pointing at Thorin in particular. The dwarf was still bleeding from his many injuries and he must be in great pain, but he absolutely refused to let Óin or anyone else see to him. His walking had turned into more of a limp and his hand went towards Ocrist anytime another alpha wandered too close to the omega and betas sitting by the campfire. “They cannot even overcome their ruts to see to their wounds. They will wear themselves out like this.”

Ori followed his eyes and sighed loudly. “It’s happened before. Sometimes an alpha will forget to eat for days leading up to their true ruts and there have been times after battles that we lose many of our alphas because they refuse treatment.”

“So sad,” Bilbo sighed. He hoped no one made themselves worse by seeing their rut through. Most of the dwarves had come out of the goblin kingdom relatively unscathed, except their esteemed leader, whom appeared to be the worst off of them all.

Gandalf grumbled before leaning over them, “Actually, there is one way. An omega is often known to be able to control an alpha in rut.”

Ori perked up and shot Bilbo a favoring look. Bilbo glared suspiciously at the wizard.

“You think I would be able to control _that_ whole lot?” The hobbit waged his pipe towards the ill-tempered group of alphas. Fili and Kili were currently in the process of rolling in the dirt and trying to headbutt each other. Balin, a normally unassuming dwarf, was growling at Dori and puffing up his chest like we was challenging the other dwarf to battle. Dori seemed to be receiving whatever signals the older dwarf was sending and was hissing back in a foul tongue. Dwalin, for some reason, was climbing a tree.

Gandalf coughed and fixed his hat. “Well, maybe not all of them, just the ones in need of medical assistance. I think Óin would appreciate the help.” 

Óin, who’d been drifting off to sleep, was shaken away by Bombur. The old dwarf flailed for a moment until Bombur pointed towards Gandalf and Bilbo. Grumbling, Óin joined them. After hearing that Bilbo was an omega and was offering his help to see to the others, the dwarf scolded the hobbit for not telling him sooner.

“Could have dealt with this all a long time ago!”

“Sorry, I wasn’t keeping it a secret on purpose.” Bilbo slouched over, trying to appear small under the glower of the dwarf. Really, that he was an omega was no business of theirs and it had no effect on his ability to travel with the Company on this harrowing adventure. His heat was long past and he still had his bag of herbs in his pocket for the next one in a few months. By then they should be in Erebor or at least close enough that he will have a room to himself to handle the heat alone. There was no reason for him to even inform them of his status.

Óin grumbled and pulled Bilbo away from Ori and Gandalf, wanting to be away from the others when he called one of the alphas over. He made sure Bilbo was situated on a outcropping of rocks a distance away from the others, a small grove of shrubs nearby for Óin to watch him. “We’ll deal with Thorin first. He’s the worst off. Take this kit and I’ll tell you what to do if you need the help. He won’t have me touching him while he’s like this, he’s a stubborn dwarf.”

“Okay… do I just, call him over?” Bilbo held up the bandages and ointments Óin had been able to save. He knew he’d need to use them sparingly if he wanted to be able to take care of everyone with them.

Nodding, the older dwarf shooed Bilbo forward, indicating he should interrupt Thorin’s pacing and draw him over. The other dwarf was already watching them warily from across the campsite and calling him over was actually pretty easy. At first Thorin crowded Bilbo towards the group they’d just separated from, but gently the hobbit was able to lead Thorin to the spot they’d settled in to help heal him.

“Over here Mister Thorin, out of the wind please. That’s good.” It was a lot like soothing a wild pony, Thorin didn’t seem to want to talk and moving him involved a lot of pushing and tugging. Thorin’s hands clamped around his wrist, not in any way painfully, but they were a constant reminder that the dwarf was that much more powerful than he was. Bilbo cautiously pushed Thorin to sit and was almost pulled into the dwarf King’s lap as a result.

“Deal with his face first, check if his nose is broken,” Óin whispered loudly. Bilbo blushed wildly, having never actually touched Thorin on purpose before today and the face seemed overly personal. The bruises and cuts marred the normally handsome face of the dwarf King though and it had to be done. Thorin thankfully allowed Bilbo to check the injuries with little complaining, too caught up in the curiosity of watching the hobbit work. After cleaning the smaller cuts and bandaging what he could, Bilbo looked towards Óin for directions.

“His chest. He’ll need to undress. We need to see how much damage he got from the wargs and that blasted orc.”

At the mentions of orcs, Thorin started growling again and his lips curling back in a nasty sneer. The dwarf King pulled Bilbo closer to him, tumbling the hobbit fully into his lap and holding him tightly against his chest.

“Oh dear…” Bilbo moaned, not knowing what to do. A glance towards Gandalf showed the wizard to be enjoying a laugh with Ori and Bombur. Bilbo was soon distracted by Thorin sniffing at his hair, dry lips traveling up his neck and to his jaw. “Oh no, no no no.” Bilbo waged a finger in Thorin’s face. “None of that now. I won’t be interested just because you’re in a rut and I’m an omega. We need to see to your injuries first or you’ll hurt yourself straining them.”

Thorin made a grunt like acknowledgment and Bilbo thought he was in the clear until two warm hands settled on his bum and squeezed.

“Thorin!” The hobbit squeaked, squirming out of the dwarfs arms under the laughter of the small group around the campfire.    

Óin watched it all with an unimpressed gaze, unfazed by the King’s groping. “Hurry up, we ain’t got all night. Just tug his shirt up and have a look.”

Grumbling under his breath, Bilbo scooted closer. He studied the dwarfs clothing, trying to find where the shirt was tucked in and how to get to it without unbuckling Thorin’s belt. Thorin hummed under his breath, looking pleased with Bilbo’s inspection and pawing at the hobbit in return when he got too close. Bilbo had to slap the dwarf’s hands when they wandered into places they weren’t invited, and he swore he’d never let Thorin live this down when he returned to normal.

“Stop dawdling,” Óin hissed. “Just tug the clothes off. He won’t do anything to you you ain’t asking for.”

Not very reassured by the comment, Bilbo yanked Thorin’s belt and fur trimmed surcoat off quickly, the brigandine too heavy to take off without the dwarf’s assistance, which Thorin wasn’t giving him as the dwarf seemed to think it some kind of game and was tugging at Bilbo’s jacket with swift fingers. “Stop! Thorin! I mean it, I’ll bop you on the nose if you don’t stop it. I’m trying to look at your injuries, now leave me in peace.”

The scolding worked and the twinkling blue eyes of the dwarf faded back to normal as he sat back to permit Bilbo’s examinations. Allowing the hobbit to touch and press against the bruises from a warg’s mouth, a clear outline of teeth over Thorin’s abs and around his back. The heavy bruising on his shoulder was dark purple where Azog’s weapon had struck the dwarf King in battle. Bilbo gulped heavily, suddenly shaken by the events that had transpired and how close they’d all been to losing their venerable leader.

Thorin seemed to catch on to the hobbit’s trembling and a large palm tenderly pressed against the side of Bilbo’s face, fingers curling around the hobbit’s ear and into his dirty hair as his thumb massaged at Bilbo’s temple. Not being able to help himself, Bilbo leaned into the hand, taking in the scent of blood and battle, knowing that these were the hands that could kill hundreds of goblins but was also gentle enough to sooth a hobbit of his fears when the need arose. Even in rut, Thorin appeared to be able to recognizable when a companion needed more than just simple reassurance.

“He’s… He’s fine. Just bruising, no penetration wounds,” Bilbo stuttered, hoping Óin heard him. Thorin was extremely lucky his brigandine had stopped the worse of the warg’s sharp teeth and nothing seemed broken. Thorin gave a loud sigh, urging Bilbo towards him again until they sat knee to knee.

Óin smiled in relief. “Okay, that’s good. We should see Nori next, I saw him take a knife to the arm as we were leaving the mountains. Now where is that lad…”

“Um,” Bilbo paused, wondering wildly if Bofur and Nori were finished with whatever they were doing down by the river. Omega or not, he wasn’t go down there to check on them. “I think we should see to the next dwarf, Nori’s busy.”

Huffing, the older dwarf rolled his eyes. “Dwalin’s next then.”

Fortunately the warrior was out of the tree and edging close to Ori and Gandalf, not that the younger dwarf noticed. Ori was watching Bilbo and Thorin with a blunt gaze, book and quill in hand as he took copious notes. Bilbo frowned at the gawkers, wondering why they all seemed to be amused at his expense.

“Mister Dwalin!” Bilbo called out, waving the dwarf over when he looked up. “Come here, I need to see you for a moment.”

Dwalin hesitated and the grip on Bilbo’s elbow tightened, but he ignored Thorin in concern for his other companions. Dwalin had a nasty set of bloody knuckles that needed seeing to. Only by the time Dwalin was near enough Thorin was growling so loudly Bilbo could hardly hear himself think.

“Thorin,” Bilbo sighed, barely able to keep himself from being pulled into Thorin’s lap again.

Dwalin sneered, huffing at Thorin before looking back towards the beta group.

“Ah,” Thorin said, surprising Bilbo with how coherent he was, though really it wasn’t a word more as a sound. It still conveyed that he at least understood something that Dwalin had pointed out. The only one who seemed able to talk lucidly earlier was Glóin and it had been muttered gibberish about his family. Bilbo wondered if that was because the red-headed dwarf was already mated so his rut wasn’t as bad as the others. He didn’t know, never being around an alpha before. 

Then suddenly, Bifur appeared out of nowhere and _pranced_ right towards Bilbo. Thorin snarled and tucked Bilbo under his arm before standing and wandering back towards the betas and wizard, Dwalin intercepting Bifur with a timely shove. Before long those two were in some sort of contest, feet skipping to some unknown rhythm. It was almost comical, how serious their faces were as they danced around each other.

Thorin deposited Bilbo back into his spot between Ori and Gandalf before walking away to see to Fili and Kili. Bilbo blinked, startled by what had transpired. He still even had the bandages he was going to use on Dwalin in hand.

“Um?”

Gandalf patted the hobbit on the shoulder. “Don’t worry lad, I think you’ve done enough help for tonight. I don’t think our esteemed leader will let another alpha near you while in that state.”

“I don’t…” Bilbo said and looked towards Ori, who quickly looked down to hide his smirk in his book. It seemed he wouldn’t be getting an answered from that dwarf about what just happened. Omegas were never this confusing, they could at least talk and explain themselves while in heat. 

Bombur set a sympathetic hand on his back. “Have some supper Mister Baggins, we have a long day ahead of us taking care of this lot. Won’t be till night fall their brains get back into order.”

Handing Óin the left over medical supplies, Bilbo took the bowl of soup Bombur handed him. It really was quite good, especially after a long battle, and it was pleasant company too, not having to fight nine other dwarves for an ample portion for once. He did worry that the others would be missing out when they needed the food to keep up their strength, but Gandalf reassured him all would be well.

After pulling Fili and Kili apart, Thorin had started his pacing again. On one of his circuits he paused before Bilbo, head cocked to the side as he watched Bilbo slurp at his meal.

“Thanks,” the dwarf King said clearly, then went back to his walking. No longer growling or grunting when another alpha got too close to him, even when Bofur tumbled out of the bushes right in front of the dwarf King half-dressed and sporting a few unmentionable bites on his neck. Nori practically sashayed out of the woods, hair dripping wet and pants unlaced.

“That was unusual,” Ori whispered, watching Thorin’s back. Bilbo just shrugged, unsure why.  

 

***


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilbo deals with his heat in Lake-town. Thorin is there to help. No really, just help.
> 
> ***Now with knotting!***

****

 

Bilbo was just getting over that horrendous cold he’d caught floating down the Celduin, when he felt the first stirrings in his stomach. At first he thought it just a bout of bad gas from the food he’d been restricted to, being rice porridge and soups to chase away the nauseous bug he caught, but even after eating his first hearty meal in weeks the feeling persisted. His insides had fluttered for a long while afterwards and it had felt a lot like a rumbling of bees had taken up residence inside him. And when he went to the bathroom to relieve himself saw the first bit of discharge on the inner lining of his pants.

Embarrassed and completely self-conscious that he was an adult and had somehow forgotten his cycle like some tween, Bilbo rushed to clean himself. There’d been a small thought towards it, while the others were captive in Mirkwood, a hope that the stress of the situation would somehow delay his heat, but he’d rarely given anything much contemplation outside helping his friends escape. 

Then there was the realization that he’d lost his bag of herbs. He’d been able to keep hold of them through Mirkwood and while confined to the Elven kingdom, but the heavy rapids of the river and his almost drowning has spirited away what little possessions he had left. Bilbo had been lucky enough to keep a hold of Sting, much less a tiny bag full of herbs.   

With little coin to his name he’d have to seek out their leader to ask for a loan. Before now he’d been able to handle any of his extra expenses, as food and shelter were agreed expenditures to his contract with the group, but the herb he sought was usually expensive, even where it grew in the Shire. Way out east in the Wilderlands and where dragons-fire had burned away much of the vegetation, the plant would be even harder to find. 

Thankfully, since the Anduin Valley the dwarf King had been much kinder to the hobbit. He’d been uncomfortable for a few days after the rut had gone its course, but Bilbo hadn’t held it against him. They had started to converse more and Thorin’s mood had been amiable towards the small hobbit on the rest of the journey. Taking up position besides Bilbo when they settled for the night, showing him how to properly hold and wield his small sword, and even lending his fur jacket to the shiver hobbit one cold night. 

Still, Thorin seemed surprised to have Bilbo asking for money. 

“Do we not provide you with the necessary things you need?”

“Y-yes, but this is for something else.” Fili and Kili had procured a new set of clothing for him after his were damaged in the river, free of charge. Though they had snickered at the ruffles around the sleeves, Bilbo was thankful just to have something warm to wear.

“Then what else do you require?” Thorin raised a bushy eyebrow, his mood lighter now that they were so close to Erebor and treated so benevolently by the Master of Lake-town. 

Bilbo shuffled in place, trying to ignore the smirking looks Glóin and Bofur were giving him from across the room. “It’s…its personal.”

Thorin’s smile became bright with mischief. “Oh?”

“P—please, Thorin,” Bilbo whined, trying hard not to blush. “I…it’s almost….”

The dwarf started to chuckle, amused by the hobbit’s flustered state. His laugh deep and throaty, sending a shivering tingle up Bilbo’s spine to hear it. But as he was inhaling more air to express his amusement, something stopped the dwarf and he suddenly stilled. With slow movements, Thorin grabbed Bilbo’s hand and pulled his wrist towards him, sniffing delicately at the exposed skin.

“Oh,” Thorin gasped, releasing the hobbit. “I hadn’t known. Sorry I took entertainment at your expense.” 

Blushing wildly, Bilbo tucked his hands into his wide pockets. He hadn’t known alphas could smell when an omega was in heat, or about to be. It would prove terribly inconvenient to hiding his situation from the others. 

“Its fine,” Bilbo said curtly, unable to meet Thorin’s concerned look. 

“How much money will you need?”

“I…” Bilbo shrugged. “I don’t know.” It might be cheaper to let the heat run its course and lock himself in his room, but they were on a time constraint. It was almost Durin’s Day and Bilbo’s role as burglar would be enacted. Usually after his heats he was lethargic and very demonstrative with his affections, wanting to touch and cuddle with others while lying idle outside among friends. In the Shire, when a heat cycle had passed there were many picnics out in the hills, where family and friends coddled together to nap out the euphoria of excess emotions brought on by their seasons, and it was a good bonding period for any hobbit couple who had mated.

Thorin stood, grabbing up Orcrist. “Come then, I will go with you to the apothecary.”

“What?” Bilbo squeaked. 

The dwarf didn’t wait to explain, pulling Bilbo along outside into the bustling streets under the curious gaze of their companions. Dwalin, who’d taken up guard outside the house they were loaned, elbowed a dozing Balin and nodded in their directions. Whatever was said afterwards Bilbo was too far away to hear by then.  

“It’s not necessary, I can do this by myself,” Bilbo pleaded, running to catch up with Thorin.

“There are many reasons I go with you, one of which is to make sure the merchants do not cheat you.”

Bilbo almost tripped over a broken plank. He didn’t like that the town was settled over a lake, it seemed dangerous and inviting to trouble. If even one of the wooden houses caught fire the others would quickly follow, and with only one bridge to the shore many people could be hurt in the rush to evacuate. Another reason he disliked the place was because of the splinters.

“Do you think they would?” Bilbo asked, curious. Thorin had seemed tolerant of the Master of Lake-town, almost friendly for the dwarf, but Bilbo didn’t trust the Man. His large round body and slick visage spoke of someone too use to the prosperity of his station, while many of his people shuffled through the streets looking thin and haggard.

“Maybe,” Thorin answered, pausing to let Bilbo catch up. “Men are different about omegas, and some might not let you buy the herbs you need without an alpha present. In Dale of old, they were better of their treatment to omegas, but while in Ered Luin I traveled with my sister to a settlement of Men off the River Lune and they refused her any service. Somehow they knew she was an omega and asked me to have her collared to prevent her from straying and then scolded me for letting her speak out of turn.”

Bilbo gasped, “No!”

Thorin nodded. “She was very insulted by the human who said that and asked for my sword to cut his manhood from him. Suffice to say, we never returned there and warned other to be wary.”

“Oh goodness,” Bilbo muttered, moving closer to Thorin as he eyed the people around them. Could they tell he was an omega? Was his scent potent enough to draw out the evil in them? He was just a hobbit, ignorant of their ways, so surely they would not force him to do anything he was uncomfortable with.

Thorin’s arm slipped gently around his shoulders and Bilbo felt safer for the protection. Certainly with an alpha like Thorin around, no one would bother him. 

“I was unaware your sister was an omega,” Bilbo said after a long moment, peeking up at the dwarf.

“She is,” Thorin grunted in acknowledgement, smiling softly to himself. “Our family was very blessed to have her born into our line, it is very rare. She is headstrong, and she defied our father’s arrangement to marry her off to a noble alpha in the Iron Mountains and instead married a beta musician she fell in love with. It was quite the scandal before the loss of Erebor.”  

“She sounds lovely actually,” Bilbo teased, trying not to let Thorin be dragged down by the weight of his loss. 

“You would likely get along with her,” Thorin smiled back. “Many treat her delicately and it drives her spare. She doesn’t believe because she is an omega that she should be treated differently.” 

“Well we shouldn’t,” Bilbo huffed. Thorin hummed in accord, herding Bilbo into a storefront with a mortar and pestle sign. The place smelt of dirt and spice, shelves filled with bottles and jars of every type, and a small weathered old man manning a desk. He glanced at them from under his glasses but allowed them to browse unattended.   

Bilbo quickly got over his nerves and finally just asked the store owner for what he wanted. Sadly they didn’t have the item he usually favored from the Shire, but the old man had some herbs that would help. The herbs would not stop his heat from coming, but it would reduce the time it lasted and diminish the effects enough he would be fine by evening time tomorrow. 

Glancing quickly back towards Thorin, who was examining a set orc bones, Bilbo called out that he was ready. Thorin joined them, asking for a few things of his own that Bilbo had never heard before, then the dwarf handed over a gold coin for payment. The apothecary seemed impressed and saw them out with requests for them to return whenever they needed anything.

Thorin handed over Bilbo’s items with little fuss, stopping in the middle of the street to divide their purchases, and the hobbit wondered if Thorin was just use to dealing with these kinds of things because of his sister. He fumbled with the bag of herbs when the dwarf passed them over, almost dropping them several times until he could slip them into his pocket. Embarrassed a bit to be in the situation to begin with, it was equally humiliating to have Thorin so casual about it. It would be no secret to him what Bilbo would be up to tonight in his room. 

“Thank you,” Bilbo whispered.

Looking down at him, Thorin made sure their eyes met before he answered. “Think nothing of it. You helped me in my time and I will help you in yours.”

“But,” Bilbo blinked and looked down at his feet. “It’s different. Things are easier in the Shire, dealing with my cycle, when the future was more certain. Here… tomorrow could be the day the day the dragon attacks. What if because of me… I fear I hold us back because of this.”

Thorin pulled him close, and Bilbo found himself tucked snug against the dwarf’s broad chest. The thick wool and course fur of Thorin’s jacket smelled musky from their travels, like dirt and wind, and he’d gone without his brigandine in the town for the last few days so the cloth was soft against his cheek. The hobbit clutched at Thorin’s shirt, troubled by the thoughts he had.

“I will not say your worries are pointless, it is good to think ahead, but you should trust your companions to handle things while you are incapacitated. The dragon has slept for many years, I doubt it will awaken just because you are in heat.”

“I know that,” Bilbo grumbled. Maybe it was the situation, being so far from home and in stressful circumstances that he felt rather emotional. Even Thorin’s kindness made him almost tear up in response.    

“Then stop worrying,” Thorin said sternly, squeezing Bilbo tightly against him one last time before releasing the hobbit to walk on his own.

That night at the dinner table, Bilbo started feeling the effects of the herb tea he’d been drinking all day. The taste was bitter and very strong, but he felt himself relax almost right away after his final cup. Maybe it was the anxiety of his heat, being around so many alphas and without his usual remedial plants to help him that had gotten him so worked up earlier. He was just glad now to be in their boisterous company and not have to worry any longer. 

“Are you okay Mister Baggins,” Kili said, right next to his ear. Bilbo was a bit surprised to find the young dwarf so close, until he noticed it was _him_ leaning into Kili that brought them nearer to one another. His head pillowed against the young dwarf’s shoulder.

“Hmm? Yes….I’m fine,” Bilbo mumbled sleepily. His plate of fish and chips sat almost full in front of him, but he rather didn’t feel like eating anymore. Thorin glanced up at them from across the table, clear amusement gleaming in his eyes at the hobbit’s languid state. Bilbo stuck his tongue out at the dwarf in retaliation.

“You sure?” Fili inquired, smothering a laugh at his uncle’s affronted expression. The four of them all sat together for dinner, Thorin inviting Bilbo to sit with them tonight instead of his usual companions.

Bilbo waved the dwarf’s concern away, “Yes, yes. Just a bit tired. I’ll go to bed soon.”

Kili started sniffing heavily, nose stuck in the air like a dog seeking a scent. “You smell that? Are we having dessert tonight? It smells like fruit tarts!” 

The two brothers looked around wildly, hoping to spot their host and find out about dessert. Most of their meals had been plain, plentiful, but not much to taste. Dessert had only happened once, when the Master of Lake-town had stopped by for dinner with Thorin, however Bilbo had been too sick to join them at that feast and was confined to bed. Still, there were many tales afterwards about how well they ate and how good things had tasted, so there was a staggering amount of grumbling when their meals had returned to the everyday basics. 

Bilbo felt his face flush and he sat up straight, trying very hard not to look across at Thorin. A beta in the Shire once had told him of his heat scent, that it was sweet and bitter at the same time, reminding her of the pastry house in Hobbiton. At the time it hadn’t seemed like a bad scent to have, but now surrounded by dirty dwarfs and grimy strangers, he felt even more like he stuck out.

“There will be no tarts or desserts for you,” Thorin said. “What you smell is the new soap I purchased today while out. I am tired to smelling like elvish dungeons.”

Fili gave his uncle a strange look that sent Bilbo into giggles and Kili nodded in understanding. 

“You smell like mother,” the blond dwarf said. “Are you sure the soap was for men? It is a very womanly scent.” 

“Hey! I resent that!” Bilbo piped up, ignoring Thorin’s glare. He did not smell womanly! 

There was a lull in the dining room around them, and a few of their friends turned to check on them. Seeing nothing was amiss, most shrugged and went back to their meals. Fili looked between Bilbo and Thorin with a suspicious gaze. Kili sat oblivious, stuffing his face with fish and sneaking some of the hobbit’s fried potatoes from his unwatched plate. Bilbo felt himself listing towards the young dwarf Prince’s shoulder again. Kili made a surprisingly good pillow. Maybe he would agree to kip with the hobbit one night? 

“What are you not telling us?” Fili asked. “Why would Bilbo be upset if we said you smelled womanly? _And why is he nuzzling Kili like that_!”

“No reason of yours,” Thorin growled, standing. “Bilbo, come. You’ve had too much to drink and need to sleep it off.”

Fili and Kili both sputtered. Kili crying out, “But he hasn’t had a drop to drink except for his foul smelling tea all day!”

The dwarf King ignored them, pulling Bilbo up by his elbows and shoving him past the other tables filled with their companions until they were alone, walking down the hallway to their bedrooms.

“Whatever he gave you must have been too strong,” Thorin grumbled to himself. “It might have been fine for a human or a dwarf, but a halfling would not be able to handle the same dosage. It is coming on too quick and deceiving your mind.”

“Thor--rin…” Bilbo crooned, feeling silly and quite good. He’d never had a heat feel like this before, like he could skip through daisies and fight off a warg at the same time. To show Thorin that he could take care of himself, take care of them both, without smelling like blood and dirt. Not that dirt was a horrible smell. Thorin’s dirt smell was good. He remedied that he need to remind the dwarf of this right away.

“I smell like dirt. Thanks.” Thorin stated, looking wholly unimpressed.

“Good dirt,” Bilbo reminded him. “Remember, us hobbits like dirt. We live under the ground. Remember?” 

Thorin sighed heavily, holding Bilbo upright while he unlocked his room. “I remember.”

“Good. Me too. You smelled like blood and dirt that night too. When you were growling at everyone. I didn’t mind then either.” Bilbo leaned heavily into Thorin’s arm, obstructing his ability to unlock a simple door until the dwarf shook him off. “You were better than Dori, he peed everywhere. And Dwalin climbed a tree!”

The empty feeling below his stomach made Bilbo rub his legs together, thighs pleasantly brushing against each other and he could feel that spot inside him hunger to be filled. A small trickle of slick ran down his pant-leg and Bilbo blushed. Clarity coming to him for a moment that he was going into full heat in a deserted hallway with his hands all over Thorin, and he pushed himself back until his head hit the opposite wall. 

“I—I’m sorry Thorin, I didn’t m—mean,” the hobbit whispered, feeling utterly scandalized. 

“Its fine,” Thorin grunted, kicking open the door once it was unlocked. “Inside, before the others loose all respect for you.”

Bilbo squeaked, hands over his rear in case there was a spot, as he shuffled inside. “Would they really? Oh goodness, I was so improper. I can’t believe I wanted to nap on Kili. You have to apologize for me, I’m so embarrassed. It’s never been like this before.”    

“Peace, Bilbo. I was teasing.” Thorin put a hand on the hobbit’s shoulder and closed the door behind them. “They will understand. Fili and Kili are use to things like this, though Dis is exceedingly more violent than you are in her heat and they will count themselves lucky.”

They stood there awkwardly for a moment, the room quiet as the noise from down the hall was a low murmur behind the closed door. Alone with the alpha, Bilbo could feel that fluttering feeling again, his nerves catching fire and he resisted the urge to strip as fast as he could to see to the problem. Thorin’s scent and strong hands still pressing against the hobbit’s back were intoxicating, and before long that loopy, flirty sensation was back and he found himself leaning towards the dwarf.

“Thor—urk!” Bilbo was pushed back onto the bed and sheets pulled over his head. The hobbit didn’t even struggle, too lax and bemused by the turn of events. 

“Sleep. That’s the best thing for you right now,” Thorin scolded.  

Bilbo’s head hit the pillow with a thump. “No! I want you to…”

Thorin paused in his straightening of the bed sheet, making sure the hobbit was tucked in like some child. “Want me to what?”

Biting his lips, Bilbo looked the dwarf over. Thorin’s strong muscles, broad shoulders, and thick thighs all excellent qualities in a bed partner. Almost exotic to the hobbit. He could see himself withering on those calloused fingers, pleading with Thorin to push deeper, moaning against the dwarf’s bearded jaw and tangling his fingers in the long hair. He’d never seen Thorin fully naked, but the way he walked and held himself led Bilbo to believe he was very much endowed.

“J-join me?” Bilbo stuttered out, wiggling against the soft bed. He felt a wash of heat go through him at the thoughts of Thorin, what they could do together, be together if the dwarf just accepted the invitation. There didn’t have to be sentiments in the act, just raw passion and a helping hand.   

Thorin’s eyes darkened and he quickly pulled his hands away. “You do not know what you ask.”

“It’s just heat,” Bilbo said softly, like he was trying to lure the dwarf closer with his voice. “It’s meant to be fun, something we both can enjoy. I promise you we’ll equally take pleasure from it.”

“It is never _just_ heat. I’m an alpha,” Thorin growled, looking thunderous. “What if I were to knot you on accident, then what?”

“Knot? What’s a knot?” Bilbo blinked, pulling the sheet up to his chin. It really was quite comfy in the bed. It would also probably be better if the dwarf just joined him already. He would no doubt be a better head rest than Kili after they had their fun. 

“Mahal fucking wept!” Thorin ran trembling hands through his long black hair and stared up at the ceiling in resentment. “Definitely not happening now. Mahal save me from the cursed halfling, he doesn’t even know of an alpha’s knot.” Then Thorin let out a long list of words in Khuzdul, which even in the hobbit’s frazzled state knew shouldn’t be repeated in polite company.

Bilbo shimmied out of his pants from under the covers, tired of waiting for Thorin to make up his mind. “I don’t understand what knot tying has to do with sex? Is it for a game? Do we tie each other up for the others enjoyment? That actually sounds fun.”

He was sure if Thorin had anything at hand, he’d toss it across the room in rage just then. His hair looked wild and he panted uncontrollably, teeth gritting together as his lips curled back. Thorin started pacing, from the end of the bed to the door, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to leave or not. Bilbo decided to help that verdict along and quickly stripped off his jacket and shirt with swift, nimble fingers. All he had on under the sheets were his smallclothes and scarf. 

He was keeping the scarf for that knotting business Thorin was talking about. It really did sound like fun.

Thorin froze as he closely watched Bilbo push his clothes out of the bed and they fell to the floor with a deafening thump in the otherwise silent room. He let the thin sheet do the rest of the talking for him. 

“I need to leave,” Thorin said, voice hoarse and a bit strangled. He turned swiftly on his feet and strode towards the door with a determined pace.

“Wait!” Bilbo cried out, upset that the alpha was leaving him.

“No.” Thorin fumbled with the door handle. “I can’t stay, or I’ll do something we’ll both regret.”

“Thorin please!”

Thorin finally got the hatch clicked open and turned one last time to look at the desperate hobbit. “I’m sorry, I wish… maybe some other…” He got a steely look in his eyes. “It won’t be like this. Not now. After I reclaim my kingdom, we’ll see.” 

“Thorin,” Bilbo moaned, but it was too late. The dwarf had already closed the door behind him with a final click of the lock. The hobbit sighed loudly. It seemed he’d be forced to deal with another heat by himself. 

For a few hours afterwards, Bilbo moaned and groaned as loud as he could in retribution for Thorin’s decision to not join him. With hands and fingers he brought himself off over and over again, desperate to quench that ache inside him. He imaged his fingers pressing deep inside him were Thorin’s, the tickling breeze against his nipples the dwarf’s hair, and the tight hold on his balls and cock where he’d looped his scarf gently around them a tender labor from his imaginary alpha lover. After he was fully spent, he quietly and swiftly drifted off to sleep for the night and the better part of the next day.   

  

A day later when the hobbit was feeling better, Balin and Ori sat Bilbo down and explained in great detail why an alpha never had just casual sex with an omega in heat. Considering the herbs Bilbo had taken were not contraceptives, but to abate the symptoms of the heat cycle into one day, he was reasonably fortunate Thorin had controlled himself.   

Suffice to say, the hobbit couldn’t look at the dwarf King for nearly a week afterwards. Which didn’t matter because Thorin was avoiding him as well. It seemed Bilbo’s heat had brought on a sort of mini-rut to the dwarf, and he’d almost attacked Dwalin returning to his room that night. Dwalin had taken to pointedly nursing his bruised jaw in over exaggerations when either the hobbit or Thorin was near.  

It wasn’t until they were packing up and setting off for the final leg of their journey to Erebor that the two finally were at ease with each other again. 

 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mating is basically sex to produce children, not the act of sex itself. Alphas only knot when an omega is in heat. Omega's turn into drunk sorority girls who just wanna get laid and then take a nap when they are in heat. These A/B/O details are hard, I hope I’m not confusing people. I'm attempting to keep things simple so I don't baffle people with my half-ass explanations, but it might not be working.  
> Oh god. I couldn’t write a sex scene yet. I giggled too much writing this and you won’t believe my browser history right now, trying to find a suitable name for penis in Middle-Earth. It’s just embarrassing. But damn, there needs to be a conclusion to this….


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place three years after BoFA.

****

Fili stormed into Bilbo’s room and threw himself down into the dinning chair across from the hobbit eating his morning porridge.

“Why is he always such an--an ass!” The young dwarf hissed, ignoring Bilbo’s frown as he kicked his dirty boots up onto the edge of the table. “Every year! Like clockwork, winter rolls around and his _highness_ turns into a troll. I’m starting to think this mountain is cursed, he was never like this back in Ered Luin.”

“Fili,” Bilbo sighed, setting his spoon down carefully and smoothing out his robe, making sure it was secure. “What are you talking about?”

“Uncle!” The young dwarf hollered, throwing his arms up in the air. “You can’t tell me you haven’t noticed.”

“Noticed what?” The hobbit asked in exasperation. It was too early to deal with the dwarves maddening riddles without a suitable explanation. Bilbo’s head felt muddled and full of cotton, still tired from not getting enough sleep the night before, and for once, the hobbit was happy there weren’t any proper windows in the mountain to let in any piercing light from the sun, otherwise he’d still probably be under the heavy covers of his bed well into the afternoon.

Fili gave Bilbo an appalled look. “You haven’t noticed Thorin’ behavior at all? He’s been as ornery as an Orc all week.”

Bilbo sipped delicately at his hot tea, a sudden thought niggling at the back of his mind.

“I haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary,” Bilbo commented warily.

The dwarf looked at him like he might have thought the hobbit a halfwit. “Really? You haven’t noticed him growling at others or striking out at anybody who gets too close? He practically attacked Dwalin the other day when he patted him on the back and he almost took my head off today just for suggesting you go with Kili and I to Bree today to find mother a birthday gift.”

“Ah,” Bilbo said simply. “I forgot that Dis’ birthday was coming up. I haven’t the faintest idea what to get her.”

“Me neither,” Fili sighed forlornly. “But I’m more concerned with Thorin right now. Last I saw him he wanted to kill me.”

“You’re exaggerating. He seemed perfectly reasonable this morning,” Bilbo shrugged. “In fact, he’s been quite the gentleman, made me breakfast and everything. I think he even picked the flowers himself before he left.” He pointed at the pretty yellow orchid sitting in a simple blue vase in the middle of the table.

Fili’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead in surprise. “Flowers? Uncle?” The two things didn’t seem to connect in the young dwarf’s mind. Bilbo normally wouldn’t blame Fili for his skepticism, but in the last three years since their journey together Thorin had changed. He’d been humbled and brought low by the consequences of their actions. The dwarf who first knocked on the round door of Bag End was not the same dwarf who repeated the action two years ago seeking forgiveness.

“Yes…” Bilbo blinked, pulling himself back from the memory. That had been a hard time for everyone, and sometimes thinking back on those months afterwards still caused his heart to ache at the painful reminder. Both had felt deeply betrayed despite how much they wanted to be together and even though Bilbo had once again traveled back with Thorin to Erebor, it had nearly taken another year for things to even get to the point they could be completely civil with each other.      

Fili snorted. “Well, I guess he would be nice to you.”

Bilbo couldn’t hide his smirk. “Yes, I suppose so.”

There was no denying Thorin and Bilbo’s current relationship. While nothing officially had been declared, where Thorin often slept at night was the worst kept secret in the mountain. Had Lobelia been around, she’d be scandalized by Bilbo’s behavior, but so far away from the Shire, there were more important things to worry about then one’s reputation. Even with the influx of dwarves returning to the Mountain, there were many tasks that needed to be done to repair the desolated kingdom from Smaug wrath. Bilbo and Thorin had decided to put some things aside until it was a bit more stable around Erebor to celebrate a happy union. 

Fili slumped in his seat and hung his head back, gapping up at the ceiling like a bored child. “Ugh, my uncle hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Bilbo yawned, rolling his eyes at the over dramatic dwarf. “But he probably won’t appreciate you being in our room.”

Jerking forward, Fili’s heavy shoes clanked loudly against the stone floor. “Why? He’s never had a problem with us here before?”

“Usually no,” Bilbo said carefully. “But right now is different.”

Fili raised an eyebrow, looking like a petulant child. “How so?”

“I am in heat.”

Fili blanched, face paling so white he looked like a marble statue. “W-what! And y-you let me in here? Are you out of your mind?”

Sometimes Bilbo thought the others forgot he was an omega. There really weren’t any overt differences between him and the others, or at least none that one could see on the outside besides the usual differences between dwarves and hobbits. In early spring, Bilbo became quite the popular figure around Erebor as both omegas and beta dwarves sought him out for advice on the coming season. Ori repeatedly commented that Bilbo’s dynamic often confused him because he couldn’t regularly tell when the hobbit was in heat, unlike how it was pretty obvious when the alphas went into their seasonal rut because of the omega dwarves heats. The few omega dwarves Bilbo met seemed to share Ori sentiments and would lament on the fact that even though the hobbit had multiple heats in the year, they didn’t seem to affect him and others like theirs did.

Bilbo never argued with the others on the issue, but he thought it was pretty obvious his heats affected _someone_ in the mountain.  

Bilbo shrugged. “I didn’t _let_ you do anything. You sort of forced your way in without my permission.”

Jumping to his feet, Fili quickly backed up away from the hobbit. Shaking his head and muttering, “Mahal, Thorin’s going to _kill me_ , and then he’ll have to make Kili his heir and all of Middle-Earth is _doomed_. Bilbo, why didn’t you say something sooner! Do you know what an alpha dwarf is like if another alpha comes into his territory when his omega is in heat?”

“Of course I do.” The hobbit smiled blissfully back at the panicked dwarf before popping a spoonful of breakfast into his mouth. He actually rather thought Thorin was more composed than some of the other alpha dwarves he met. Nori in particular was quite vicious when he went into rut.   

Fili tripped and stumbled to the floor about the same time Thorin barged into the room. The two dwarves stared at each other, clearly surprised to see the other in Bilbo’s space. Then Thorin look a long inhale, most likely smelling the sweet scent of Bilbo’s ripening season- which the others in the company said smelled like a mix of fruit and dessert- and growled. Glancing quickly at the hobbit to ascertain Bilbo was unmolested, Thorin’s eye’s locked on his nephew and his lips pulled back in a silent snarl.

“I’m sorry,” Fili squeaked, shuffling back on his elbows to get away from the looming King. “I didn’t know! I swear on my beard I wasn’t going to try anything. I was just talking, complaining, about you of course, but--”

“My own kin,” Thorin growled, footsteps heavy as he towered over the young dwarf, “betraying me. Wanting to take my One from me and trying to usurp my position as Bilbo’s Alpha while I am occupied with my duties to the kingdom.” Reaching for his sword, the younger dwarf could barely whimper before Thorin was nearly on him. “I shall cut your beard from you for--”

“Thorin no!” Bilbo was wide awake now, jumping forward and yanking Thorin back, holding him from attacking his nephew. Orcist tumbled to the ground, clanging against Bilbo’s glory-box and knocking over a stack of books and scrolls. Fili grabbed one of the thickest books in the pile and held it before him like a shield. “Thorin, please,” Bilbo said softly, trying to sooth the agitated alpha from hurting Fili.

The older dwarf froze, wide blue eyes meeting Bilbo’s own. His arms clamped tightly around the hobbits middle, holding Bilbo securely against him. “You were not tempted?”

“Tempted to what?” Bilbo asked, tucking a loose strand of Thorin’s hair behind his round ear before caressing his jaw, fingernails lightly scratching at the growing beard there.

Thorin chewed on his words, expression worried as he looked the hobbit over. “He is younger, and heir to a powerful and rich kingdom. No omega would hold it against you if you left the older alpha for the youthful one. He might even be able to give you the children I seem unable to.”

“Oh Thorin,” Bilbo sighed. He wondered if this was something Thorin had been holding back from him, unable to voice except through his current state. They had only been trying for a few months to breed, and even though they were an alpha and omega pair, that wouldn’t guarantee they would actually be able to reproduce. Sometimes things like that never happened on the first try, or the second or third, if ever. It was just something that happened when it happened, and already there were circumstances that could hold up the process. There wasn’t a documented case that Bilbo could find of a hobbit and dwarf successfully reproducing, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t try.

“You silly dwarf,” Bilbo said fondly, kissing Thorin on the cheek. “Why would I ever want someone else when I have finally gotten you trained to my every whim. We’ll have our baby when Aule allows us, there is no rush.”

Thorin snorted, accepting the platitudes and letting the hobbit fuss at him. There was a slam of the doors somewhere behind them and Bilbo figured Fili was smart enough to make his escape while the other alpha was distracted with the hobbit in his arms. Thorin looked flushed, cheeks pinkened and brow sweaty, like he’d sprinted to their rooms. His state brought back memories of the night before and Bilbo felt slick trickle between his thighs as his body yearned for the feel of Thorin back inside him. He was nearing the peak of his heat so the littlest thing could set him off. Thorin had barely to look at him and the hobbit was squirming to get into the dwarf’s lap.

“Mmm,” the hobbit hummed, nuzzling at the skin under Thorin’s chin. “Not that I’m complaining but why _are_ you back so early? I thought you had a council meeting this morning?”

The alpha snuffled against Bilbo’s temple, “I did, but it was tedious and I left Balin to handle it. He is smarter than my nephew and knew I had an omega back in my room waiting for me.”

“Ah,” Bilbo sighed, leaning back to look his dwarf over. Now that he was use to being around alphas, he could see how obvious it was that Thorin was going into rut. His pupils were blown wide and skin rosy with heat. Not quite incoherent yet, the dwarf’s voice was still rough and stilted with pauses, like it took him a moment to grasp at his words before he could voice them. Fili had already attested to the change in temperament, and Bilbo did feel somewhat guilty about causing that to happen. Last year the hobbit had had to hole himself up in his room for the week after Thorin and Dwalin got into a scuffle when Dwalin had passed a cup of tea to Bilbo at dinner one evening. Since then, the hobbit usually planned his heats out with a better excuse not to accept visitors.

Thorin tugged at the collar of Bilbo’s robe, pulling the hobbit’s nightgown aside and biting down at the exposed skin. Bilbo whimpered, struggling only halfheartedly in Thorin’s arms.  

“Bed?”

The dwarf purred in pleasure at the suggestion, letting Bilbo lead him back to their bedroom.

“You smell--you smell enchanting, like ripe peaches and the dark sugar used on those orange cakes you make in the fall.”

“Are you talking about the butternut squash pie I made for Bombur last year? That is _pie_ , not cake, dear.” The hobbit felt only partially indignant, preoccupied by the trail of kissed Thorin peppered up his neck towards his ears. Even for a hobbit, there were some things that could distract Bilbo from defending his food and a dwarf King slowly seducing the omega was one of them. 

“Yes, as you say,” Thorin said absentmindedly. He’d probably agree to any suggestion from Bilbo in this state. The hobbit could ask for the Arkenstone or the crown to the kingdom and he had little doubt Thorin would give it to him.

Bilbo stifled a whimper when Thorin tumbled him back onto the bed, sliding between the hobbit’s legs and rucking up his nightclothes. The dwarf’s hands were heavy and hot against Bilbo’s thighs, slipping up his flank to squeeze at his hips.

Thorin blinked, startled for a moment into awareness. “You are not wearing smallclothes.”

Biting his lips, Bilbo just opened his legs wider, giving Thorin a good look under his clothes. “No.”

“Y-you…” Thorin trailed off, cheeks turning as red as Bilbo’s prized tomatoes as he continued to stare at the place the omega was dripping wet for him, the fluid clear and slick where it trickled from his opening, readying the hobbit for another round with the alpha.  

“I know it’s not really _proper_ ,” Bilbo said teasingly, stretching his arms out behind him and displaying his body. “But I didn’t want to do anymore laundry then I already have to. Besides, the last pair you ripped off me anyways.”

“Mahal,” Thorin gasped, leering in satisfaction at the memory. “You are a cruel creature, burglar. You steal my heart and then you steal my breath, making a King into your servant. Erebor is at your mercy, Bilbo Baggins.”

“You silly dwarf,” Bilbo said softly, hooking his ankles around Thorin’s back and pulling the dwarf forward until his clothed hips were against Bilbo’s naked flesh. “I just want you at my mercy.”

Thorin’s answering grin mirrored Bilbo’s. “I see.”

Moving closer, Thorin propped himself above the hobbit, leaning over him so he could bite at Bilbo’s neck. There was a familiar scar there, a set of teeth marks where Thorin had drawn blood their first, frenzied time together. Bilbo shuddered, enjoying the scrap of Thorin’s beards against the sensitive skin of his collar and the bruising kisses up his neck and jaw, ending when the dwarf paused to nibble at the lobe of Bilbo’s ear.

“Thorin,” Bilbo whined, tugging at the lapels of Thorin’s coat to draw him closer. Mouth gasping open like a fish, Bilbo pulled until Thorin’s mouth slotted against his. Everything felt wet and sloppy, a product of their growing passion and Bilbo’s heat. They couldn’t be close enough, couldn’t touch enough skin, could barely suck in enough air to even breathe.

Bilbo wanted so much, everything that Thorin could offer him and more. He was omega to the King Under the Mountain, hobbit of Erebor, Dragon-slayer, barrel-rider, spider-killer. His demands were simple, and Thorin owed it to him to fulfill them.

“Please,” the hobbit gasped, reached down and tugging Thorin’s belt off with a flick of his wrist. The heavy metal clattered to the stone floor, causing Thorin to flinch, the alpha thinking for a moment that someone was trying to interrupt them. Bilbo soothed him, crooning softly as he ran his fingers through Thorin’s hair, tugging gently at his braids until the alpha’s focus was back on him.

Settling back on his feet, Thorin shrugged out of his coat and long-shirt before quickly pulling the mithril armor off. Bilbo watched him, eyes so wide they almost looked completely black. He licked his lips and settling back against the pillows of the bed, wriggling against the soft sheets to get comfortable. Bilbo quirked an eyebrow at the King, silently asking him what was taking him so long. 

Thorin quickly hopped back onto the bed, prowling over the hobbit and he peppered kisses all along Bilbo’s body, pushing the hobbit’s nightshirt and robe aside to reach the skin hidden from view. The dwarf nipped at the underside of Bilbo’s knees, caressed the sprinkling of fur on the hobbit’s round stomach, and suckled at the tight, pink nubs on his chest. Bilbo mewled in delight, squirming against the bulky weight of the dwarf trapping him against the bed. 

“Oh, Thorin,” Bilbo cried out, warmth creeping across his skin as Thorin continued to worship his body. The sheets under him were soaked with Bilbo’s slick, growing wetter as Thorin caused Bilbo to desperately wreath under him, the omega’s body drawing closer to his first orgasm of the morning. In his current state, the littlest thing could set him off.

Bilbo was hard, thought he might have been hard the moment Thorin stormed into the room and chased away the other alpha. Some primitive omega part of Bilbo thrilled at the thought, knowing the dwarf would defend his right as Bilbo’s alpha, would fight off any other suitors who came looking for the hobbit during his season.

Thorin grunted nonsense against Bilbo’s nipple, earning a giggle from the hobbit in reply.

“Attend me my King,” Bilbo said, smirking when Thorin’s head jerked up to stare in astonishment up at him. The hobbit gestured lower, at his obvious erection.  

The dwarf raised an eyebrow, but complied nonetheless.

Thorin bit affectionately at Bilbo’s hip, tongue lapping soothingly at the pale skin as he moved farther south, the hobbit’s turgid length twitching when the heat of the dwarf’s breath caressed the head of his cock. The alpha gave it a gentle lick, large hands moving under Bilbo’s rump and spreading him, shoulder’s holding the hobbit’s twitching legs open as he patiently lapped at the come running down Bilbo length to the glistening hole waiting for his attention. 

 “P--please,” Bilbo begged, grapping at Thorin’s hair and trusting his hips forward. “Please, oh--Thorin--Ah!”

Despite the rut, Thorin was gentle and patient, preparing Bilbo’s body slowly like he had all the time in the world to mate the hobbit. Switching between sucking at the hobbit’s cock and pressing his tongue against the wrinkled skin farther down, Thorin purred in satisfaction when Bilbo shuddered through his first orgasm. The hobbit keening and mewling as the world around him slowly dimed to a hazy grey, until Bilbo was only aware of the places where Thorin touched him.  

“My love,” Bilbo murmured, wrenching Thorin up with weak arms. Thorin’s scent a heady mix of familiar comfort and something wildly ferocious; growing stronger the farther into rut the dwarf went. Already the swelling in his loose britches causes the dwarf to awkwardly hump into Bilbo, whimpering for his own release. “Come on, come on,” Bilbo chanted, slipping Thorin’s trousers down and freeing his erection.

“I--I haven’t--” Thorin growled in frustration, swallowing thickly as Bilbo wrapped his hand around him, pumping a few times until the dwarf’s length was slick with come. “You need--”

“I need you,” Bilbo answered, wriggling into position and hooking his ankles together behind Thorin’s back. Even though the dwarf was still half dresses, Bilbo just wanted Thorin inside him, knotting him. His belly felt hollow and empty, yearning for the fullness of the alpha over him to fill him.  

Bilbo was still loose from the night before, and his heat made preparation unnecessary. Thorin hissed through his teeth when he pressed in, fingers leaving bruises at Bilbo’s hip as he held on, barely resisting the urge to just slam forward and lock the omega to him. Bilbo whimpered helplessly, gasping loudly as the dwarf worked slowly inside him, pressing his larger cock inside the slick opening.

Bilbo didn’t think he would ever get over how amazing it felt to have an alpha inside him. He’d like to believe that he would have been satisfied if Thorin had been a beta, knows he would have loved him regardless, but something ancient and primal just felt completed when the alpha mated him. Bilbo could write poetry and prose to Thorin’s knot alone, loved the feeling of being stretched and locked together as Thorin came over and over, filling his belly with the dwarf’s come.

“Ah, B-Bilbo,” Thorin whispered, eyes closed tightly as he bottomed out.

Fingers digging into Thorin’s back, Bilbo thrust forward, pulling the dwarf forward into a sloppy kiss as they rocked together. It was a slow and steady pace, not rushed like the night before when the dwarf had Bilbo on his belly and hips in the air as he plowed forcefully into him. Their bed probably wouldn’t have survived another onslaught like that and the headboard was still cracked from Bilbo’s last heat.

“Please,” Bilbo begged, not knowing quite what he was asking for. One hand stole down Thorin’s back and squeezed at his flexing rump, earning a grunt from the alpha pistoning into him. “Please, ah, Thor-Thorin!”

Thorin licked into the hobbit’s mouth, his trusts getting harder as Bilbo clung to him. The scrap of Thorin’s clothes against Bilbo’s skin caused him to wriggle, moaning loudly with every smack of Thorin’s balls against his rump. He could feel the dwarf’s cock steadily growing at the base, his knot inflating the closer to orgasm they came, pulling at Bilbo’s stretched rim until Thorin had to thrust harder each time he pulled out, forcing the knot back inside.

“Ah-Ah!” Bilbo moaned loudly, biting down at the skin between Thorin’s neck and shoulder to muffle the embarrassing noises he was making. Only Thorin could make him feel so wanton, so desperate in his heat for the alpha to knot him.

Thorin growled, hands slipping down to pull one of the Bilbo’s ankle over his shoulder, circling his hip forward on the next thrust until the hobbit was keening loudly. Bilbo was bent nearly in half, unable to rock back into the sharp thrusts. Every other strike of Thorin’s cock inside him hit that spot that made him see stars, a crown of constellations over the dwarf King’s head as their sweaty love making built closer to its peak.  

“Knot me,” Bilbo said, muffled against Thorin’s shoulder as he clutch at the dwarf. “Please, knot me. Mate me, breed me!”

“I-I am,” Thorin choked out, hand squeezing the hobbit’s side tightly as he pulled him back into the next jarring thrust. “Breeding you. Put a whole litter in you.”

“Yes,” Bilbo hissed, throwing his head back in ecstasy. He wanted to be full of Thorin’s come, leaking with it for the rest of the day, and a few months from now swelling with child. To proudly display to the rest of the kingdom what a good alpha Thorin was to his omega.  

Their heavy panting and the wet squelching where their bodies meet were almost deafening in the cavernous room. The scent of their sex and Bilbo’s heat permeating the room with an obvious stench and Bilbo wondered absently if the whole wing of their hallway would be abandoned because of them.

Thorin was usually quite in their regular loving making, but in rut he growled senseless Khuzdul and filthy promises against the wet heat of Bilbo’s skin. Biting down and sucking bruises that the hobbit would carry with him for days afterwards, a visible badge of declaration.  

“Touch me,” Bilbo demanded, voice husky with pleasure. “You have to--please!”

Thorin pulled away until he was leaning on his knees, still having enough room to tug at Bilbo’s cock and slam deep inside his hole, dragging the expanding base of his own cock against the omega’s wet rim.

“Oh! Oh--Thorin!” Bilbo cried out in surprise, his body clenching down around Thorin’s length as he came unexpectedly, not ready or prepared to come so easily. His cock pulsed into Thorin’s hand and onto his stomach as what felt like lightning sparked down his spine, causing him to bow his back and allow Thorin to thrust deeper. The dwarf snarled something incoherent, thrusting as far as he could into Bilbo’s tight hole until the knot swelled and locked them together, Bilbo’s body milking Thorin’s orgasm from him until the dwarf’s arms trembled to hold himself up.

“My dear-heart, my alpha,” Bilbo sung senselessly, running a shaky hand through Thorin’s sweaty hair and urging him down on top of him. They would be stuck for a while in that position, the alpha’s knot swollen inside Bilbo.

Thorin nuzzled at Bilbo’s temple, whining back in his throat as they comforted each other, both of them sore and wrung out from their mating. The hollowed feeling in Bilbo’s belly was satisfied and he had never felt so completed as when he was in Thorin’s arms.

“You did good, such a good alpha,” Bilbo praised, pressing kisses on Thorin wherever he could reach. “Never want anyone else.”

“No one?” Thorin asked, voice hoarse against the hobbit’s ear. His hands smoothed through the puddle of come on Bilbo’s stomach, caressing the hobbit’s round stomach and spreading the sticky release onto his hips. “Even if I can’t--”

“Only you,” Bilbo reassured him, smiling softly as their eyes met. The dwarf purred in pleasure, helping the omega situate his legs so they wouldn’t go numb from being forced into an odd position. Gently, Thorin reached down to where they were joined, checking for damage and only stopping when Bilbo started to whimper, too oversensitive to deal with Thorin’s fingers pressing against him rim.  

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Bilbo answered, yawning sleepily. “I’m good. Perfect.” The thing about being in heat was that he often fluctuated between really horny and then really tired, wanting naps when Thorin wasn’t attending him. His body content now that Thorin was knotting him, happy in respite until the next urge to mate would be on him.

Thorin chuckled. “You are perfect.”

Bilbo smiled, “So are you.”

The dwarf blushed and Bilbo felt his heart stutter in affection. Thorin looked so pleased with himself, bashful at Bilbo’s praise and yet so thrilled to be acknowledged as a good alpha.

Thorin fluffed the pillow under Bilbo’s head when he yawned twice in quick succession. Thorin tried to wriggle out of his tattered clothes while they were still connected without disturbing the sleepy omega, moving them over onto their sides so he didn’t squash Bilbo under him. Eventually he got them both naked, throwing their clothes over his shoulder and pulling the messy covers up over them both.

“Love you,” Bilbo muttered, closing his eyes slowly as he started to drifted off.

Thorin sighed blissfully, “Love you too.”

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is pretty much a PWP.  
> This took me forever to write, mostly because if I wanted to stick with the timeline I had in the previous two chapters, I would have to at least sort of acknowledge the issues that happen in canon during/after BoFA. I know I barely glanced over them, but the reason the setting in this chapter is 3 years after the fact is my way of mentioning them without getting too plotty and in-depth. I didn’t want there to be ‘magical heat sex’ that would fix all their problems. So what’s not really mentioned is that Bilbo went back to the Shire, canon happened (except no one died of course), and eventually Thorin got over himself and went back for his burglar. And still things were not hunky-dory, they had to relearn each other before they got together as a couple. It’s not just about them being alpha and omega, but personalities being compatible as well. I know I probably disappointed some people with this not being first-time sex, but it wouldn’t have felt real to me if it was. I’m a lot happier with this draft the some of my others.  
> As for mpreg, I almost did a short epilogue where Bilbo had the child Thorin wanted. Really, I don’t know many people who get pregnant on the first try. Sometimes it takes months, even years. And while the ‘heat’ is really suppose to be when an omega is at his most fertile, they are still two different races where it might not be possible to reproduce. Personally, I like to think they did eventually, but there are some who might like to imagine Frodo eventually came into their lives (via death of relatives and then adoption) and filled that missing link between them. You decide. =) 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it. Sorry for the loooong wait!


	4. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall convinced me to make a quick epilogue, though no real plot to this chapter. Mpreg! Bilbo and Thorin finally have the children they wanted.

If Bilbo could have avoided traveling he would have. The road ahead of them was long and bleak, the trees looked like grey, gnarled fingers reaching for the heavily clouded sky, the landscape was wet and mushy with snow, pothole growing all along the road where the too much water had built up, and even the weather, which was mild and bright with autumn last Bilbo had traveled through this region, was cold and bitter with the scent of heavy snow on the horizon. Worse, looming ahead like tall imposing sentries keeping watch on their caravan’s progression, were the Misty Mountains.

Bilbo pulled the hood back over his head, shivering as the sharp, cold wind pierced through the heavy layers he wore under his fur cloak. The wagon he was riding on wasn’t the most stable, its wheel a bit misshapen as it went over the large rocks of the Anduin Valley, and the pony pulling their wagon was slow and ornery, often having to be jerked back onto the trail when it tried to venture off to eat what little grass remained on the nearby field. Bilbo couldn’t wait to get to Beorn’s, where a warm file and Gandalf were set to meet them. It really wasn’t the season to be traveling, but there were some things that just couldn’t be avoided, no matter the weather.

“Pa, why can’t I ride a pony like Thrór? I’m tired of sitting in this stupid wagon.” Little Finn peaked up at Bilbo from under the brim of his thick wool hat, his long dark curls dancing in the wind where they’d slipped out of their braids.

“You’re not big enough, dear. Maybe next year,” Bilbo answered calmly, tugging the cap down over the child’s pointed ears. He didn’t need his children catching a cold in the current volatile weather, it would impede their travels even more than Bilbo’s condition already called for.

Finn pouted, his thick eyebrows furrowing and his bottom lip sticking out in melodramatic dismay. He looked so much like his other father for a moment that Bilbo couldn’t help but laugh, pulling his young son closer to him and smothering him with kisses.

“Pa! Ew, yuck! Stop! Father, papa won’t stop kissing me!” The child screeched, giggling wildly.

Thorin pulled his pony around and headed back towards their wagon, the smile on his face as he observed his family was radiating warmth and happiness. “What’s this now?”

“Papa won’t stop kissing me,” Finn tattled, wiggling out from Bilbo’s arms. “I’m too old for kisses! I can’t be a great warrior if my papa still treats me like a baby. Kili told me so.”

“Really now,” Thorin said, raising an eyebrow at the dwarf in questions. The Prince winced, turning away and whistling loudly from where he rode in the back of their caravan with Óin and Bofur. Fili had opted to stay in Erebor and take care of things. Bilbo rolled his eyes at them all, fixing Finn’s hat again and making sure his own was still on. Their little scuffle had knocked their cloaks askew and his son had almost lost a mitten, but they were otherwise fine. Thorin glanced over at Bilbo in concern for a moment, before the hobbit gave him a reassuring nod, then he looked over his son, an odd expression on his face. “Would you say I’m a great warrior, dear heart?”

Finn blinked, startled by his father’s worried tone. “Oh course. You are the strongest warrior ever! Even Dwalin can’t beat you.”

From Bilbo’s other side, Dwalin snorted, obviously not impressed by the little Prince’s observations. Dwalin had the dubious job of driving their wagon, as Thorin trusted no other with such precious cargo.

“But you say great warriors do not receive kisses from your papa,” Thorin said in concern. “Your papa and I kiss all the time.”

Fin scoffed, “Well that’s because you are _married_.” The child’s reply seemed to infer that marriage was something to be avoided at all cost and wretched be the person who fell for such a ploy. Bilbo thought it was deeply amusing that Finn was at that stage where the idea of love was so abhorrent to him, yet his older brother Thrór fell so easily for every pretty dwarf --or elf, much to Thorin consternation-- he came across. His boys were such a contradiction to each other.

“Yes, well,” Thorin paused for effect, “then I would think that maybe it’s your papa’s kisses that make a dwarf such a great warrior? Since neither Dwalin nor Kili are strong enough to beat me and they don’t have your papa there to give them the strength, so would you think that maybe it’s a good thing to get kisses from papa?”

Finn seemed stumped, staring with wide eyes between Thorin and Bilbo, mulling his father’s interpretation over. Bilbo and Thorin shared a look, both amused by how distressed their son appeared to be at Thorin’s news. Finally, he seemed to come to a sort of conclusion. “Maybe…”

“Aye, your father’s right boy,” Dwalin called out, reining the pony to slow down as they went over another pothole. “It’s all because of them magic hobbit-kisses that he so much stronger than me. He used to be the weakest alpha of the bunch before he met your papa. Bilbo does him a favor by helping him.”

Thorin glared at Dwalin, eyes narrowed in annoyance at the insult. Little Finn hardly noticed, instead he looked up at Bilbo with such wonder his blue eyes nearly took up his whole face. “Really? Papa has magic?”

“Well,” Bilbo bit his lip, amused. “Maybe a little.”

“But its secret,” Thorin interjected. “Otherwise we’ll have everybody asking for kisses from your papa and we can’t have that.”

“Oh.” Finn sat back against the wooden seat, stunned by all he’d learned. Bilbo shot Thorin a fond look, the dwarf trotting his pony nearer so he could press a kiss against his husband’s knuckles. Thorin was much too pleased with himself for ticking his son and someday he’d probably regret telling such things to Finn, especially when the boy got older and presented as a alpha or omega, but until then Thorin enjoyed what entertainment he could get from his blossoming family. Finn was much too susceptible to tall tales at his current age.

Bilbo pulled his hand back and rubbed it against his stomach when he felt the baby inside kick, grunting loudly as it stole his breath for a moment. It seemed this one wasn’t going to be as easy a child as Thrór or Finn if it was already kicking up a fuss. Dis liked to comment that it meant they were having a girl this time, but Bilbo thought maybe this one was already taking after Thorin. As much as their two boys looked like their other father, they both were mild-mannered and soft hearted as any hobbit found in the Shire. On some days, Bilbo found himself shamefully relieved to admit that he was glad Fili was still set to inherit, and even though Thrór was a good boy and a very stately Prince, he had too much hobbit in him to be happy ruling a dwarf kingdom.

Thorin watch Bilbo in concern, alarmed by his pregnant omega’s sharp breathing. Bilbo gave him a timid smile in return. They traveled as comfortably as they could afford, but the little one still wasn’t happy about the bumps and jostling about that came inevitably with traveling, despite the many cushions and pillows supplied them for the journey. Even Dwalin couldn’t help glancing at him in alarm, as if he was afraid Bilbo would go into labor right then and there if they went over another pot hold.      

“Of course it all seems rather selfish,” Kili teased, breaking the tense atmosphere. “I wouldn’t mind some magic kisses from your papa if your father was willing to share.”

Thorin growled at that, swinging his pony around so he could chase after his laughing nephew. Bilbo just rolled his eyes, knowing Kili was just pulling Thorin strings. Everyone was aware how overprotective of his family Thorin was, especially when his alpha instincts kicked in and hyped those feelings up even more than they usually were. Even now it took little to set the dwarf King off these days and just last week he’d sent a disgruntled coal miner to the dungeon for calling Thrór a cur when the boy had set all the canaries free from their cages.

“Pa,” Thrór awkwardly reined his pony towards them, his short legs barely able to reach the stirrups. “Is everything okay? You’re looking a bit pale. Should we stop for an hour and let you recover?”

Bilbo’s heart melted at the concern from his gentle son. “I’m fine, just a bit chilly is all. We should be at Beorn’s before long and a good meal and a warm hearth will set me straight. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“You sure?” Thrór blinked large blue-green eye at him, mouth twisted down in a frown very reminiscent of Thorin’s. “Would you like to borrow my cloak? I’m not very cold and I’m wearing enough underneath I can go without.”

“I’m fine, love, keep your cloak.” As if to reassure him, Bilbo reached back into the wagon and pulled another blanket to wrap around his feet. Dwalin and Bofur had lined the whole wooden surface of the wagon with pillows and blankets, enough that that there were plenty to keep Bilbo and the rest of the party warm for their travels.

Thrór nodded, still looking a bit anxious as he traveled alongside the wagon for a ways. Finally, his worry eased and he turned to Bilbo to address another issue.

“Do you think he’ll like us?”

Bilbo hummed softly to himself. “Who, dear?”

“Our cousin,” Thrór laughed. “Have you already forgotten?”

“Of course not,” Bilbo said, raising an eyebrow at the young boy. “I was just distracted by thought of the last time I traveled through here. So much has changed since then.”

“Yes, yes, we’ve heard it before,” Thrór grumbled, rolling his eyes. Bilbo’s children had heard the story of their fathers and uncles expedition hundreds of times since their birth, in every form and variation. Thorin in particular like to exaggerate certain aspects of their journey, especially overstating Bilbo’s significance in defeating the dragon and Thranduil’s treachery.

“I can’t wait to meet cousin Frodo!” Finn piped up, bouncing in his seat. “He’s going to like me best! You’ll see!”

“Now dear--” Bilbo started to say.

“He’s closer to my age,” Thrór interrupted. “And besides, he won’t want to play with someone who still wets the bed.”

The dwarves nearby burst out laughing at Thrór’s words, with Dwalin being one of the few to remain expressionless, as Finn’s face flushed so red he looked like a tomato, cheeks puffed up in anger and humiliation both. Bilbo blinked in surprise at Thrór unexpected viciousness. It was true Finn did have some accidents every now and then, but really he’d gotten a lot better this year. He was still quite young, by both hobbit and dwarf standards, and Finn had what Thorin considered a un-dwarvish fear of the dark all things considered. Finn had done absolutely well on their travels however, not once having an accident that Bilbo was aware of.

Bilbo was thankfully saved from reprimanding Thrór when Thorin trotted back up, his hair a bit more windswept and unkempt as before. “What’s this now? You teasing your brother?” He did a double take when he saw how wet Finn’s eyes were and how flushed his face was. Thorin said something harsh in Khuzdul, causing the rest of their party to lag behind and Thrór to flinch. 

Thrór looked guiltily away from his brother when he caught sight of Finn’s tears. “Sorry, father. It’s just…I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Thorin demanded. “Apologize to your brother.”

“Sorry Finn,” Thrór mumbled, looking down and running his fingers through the pony’s mane. Bilbo tugged the little boy against him, letting Finn bury his face against his protruding stomach to hide his quiet weeping. Bilbo sighed. His boys, both were so nervous about meeting Frodo their moods changed at the simplest thing.

Thorin continued to berate Thrór in Khuzdul, Bilbo only picking up a few words he understood. Eventually Finn’s crying subsided and he bravely wiped away his tears in view of the others. Dwalin handing over a handkerchief so the little boy could blow his nose and afterward Finn gave the dwarf a toothy smile, feeling better that his idol hadn’t laughed like the others had.

“It’s okay, Finn. He didn’t mean it,” Bilbo consoled his son, tucking the used handkerchief into his pocket. “He said he was sorry.”

“I don’t wet the bed,” Finn stated, staring beseechingly up at Bilbo. “I’m not a baby!”

“Of course you aren’t,” Bilbo reassured him, tugging his cap back over his ears. “You’ll be a big brother soon and that means we’ll need your help. You know your father and I wouldn’t give such important responsibilities to someone we didn’t think could handle it.”

Finn wiped some more snot off his nose with the edge of Bilbo’s cloak, ignoring the handkerchief in his pocket right in front of him. Some old Baggins part of Bilbo despaired for the fine cloth, but he was rather use to the daily secretion from children by now.

“If Frodo don’t like me than the baby will,” Finn stated, patting at Bilbo’s belly. “I’ll be a better brother than Thrór, you’ll see.”

The young child glared at his brother, who only seemed to wilt more into his saddle.

“Now Finn,” Bilbo sighed, a sharp pain traveling up his spine as their wagon went over another pothole. “Ouch! Oh stop it Thorin, I’m fine,” Bilbo swiped at his alpha’s reaching hand and moved to tuck Finn against his side. “Your brother was sorry and he’s always been very good to you. Don’t judge him because of one misdeed. He’s just as scared about meeting your cousin as we all are.”

“You’re scared?” Finn asked, peeking up at him in surprise.

“Yes,” Bilbo said softly. “I haven’t seen him in quite a while, not since he was a babe newly born. Considering the circumstances, I worry he might not like me, since he won’t remember our first meeting. Your Aunt Primula was my favorite cousin, but I hadn’t kept up correspondence like I should have. ”

“Oh.” Finn stared blankly ahead towards the Mountains. Whatever thoughts he had seemed to disquiet him, as his mouth turned down in a grimace. “What if he’s …unpleasant?”

That startled a laugh out of Bilbo, drawing Thorin’s curious attention. “I doubt that. There’s rarely ever a _unpleasant_ hobbit.”

“Except Auntie Lobelia,” Finn stuck out his tongue like he tasted something bad. “I don’t like that woman. Why does she always visit on your birthday? She ruins all the fun and I wish she would just stay in the Shire with the rest of them.”  

Bilbo had his suspicions on why Lobelia Sackville-Baggins liked to visit around his birthday. It probably had something to do with the gifts Bilbo gave out and his status as husband to a King. If she didn’t leave with at least a pocketful of silver and gold trinkets, she’d blather about how discourteous he was to all his relatives.

“Didn’t the boy, Frodo, stay with her for a time?” Thorin asked, leaning towards them.

“Yes,” Bilbo answered, frowning when Thorin and both their boys made noises of distress. “Really now, she’s not that bad.”

“Bilbo, my pearl, she really is,” Thorin said, Thrór nodding in agreement beside him. “Do you think next year we should take a vacation around your birthday and warn her not to visit? It would be a nice reprieve and Dis could mind the Kingdome while we are away.”

Bilbo gawked at his husband. “The baby will barely be a year old!”

“Even more reason to go on a vacation!” Kili piped up, looking excited. “You and Uncle can rest, while Fili and I watch the little ones.”

 Thrór bounced in his saddle. “We can go to Gondor or maybe even Rohan! I’ve always wanted to meet the great riders of Rohirrim.”

Looking at the eager expression from his children and the dwarves, Bilbo mumbled that he would think about it. He hadn’t expected Lobelia’s visits to be that much of a bother to his family. Sure she could be a nuisance, but Bilbo often missed his relatives back in the Shire and Lobelia’s visits did help that some.

“I see the valley ahead,” Dwalin called out, pointing out past the tree line. The others seemed to perk up at the news, the idea of getting off the road and a promise of a warm fire improving everyone’s mood. Finn clutched tightly to Bilbo’s side, nervous with a sudden burst of energy, while Thrór started asking his father about proper greeting procedures for Beorn and his family.

Before long the house came into view and with it, a crowd of animals surrounding two tall figures and one short, curly haired hobbit. Bilbo felt a smile break across his face, taking in Frodo’s shy demeanor and cautious expression as the little boy warily watched the dwarves dismount from their ponies. Dwalin and Kili helped Bilbo from the wagon as Thorin and Thrór greeted their host, the wizard’s eye’s sparkling with delight as he took in Bilbo’s condition.

“I didn’t know you were expecting, my dear friend! Congratulations are much in order!”

Bilbo laughed, hobbling up towards the porch as Finn clung to his cloak. “We hadn’t known either or I would have warned you before you set off, but as it is I am not yet unable to travel. The baby’s not due till early spring.” The fact was that his current pregnancy was a surprise to everyone including the omega. Bilbo’s last heat had concluded predictably with no complications and for a time there were no signs at all that he was pregnant. It wasn’t until his next planned heat hadn’t shown that he became suspicious. Thorin had testily complained that Bilbo always smells like babies and that was why he hadn’t noticed, which was of course when Finn started all his fussing about being called a baby.

“Evening, Gandalf.” Thorin quickly appeared at Bilbo’s side, detaching his errant son and lending the hobbit an arm to lean on. Thrór lagged behind, standing with Kili as the wizard greeting the rest of the caravan and Beorn helped unhook the pony from the wagon.

“Greetings, your Majesty.” Chuckling, Gandalf put a hand on Frodo’s curly head. “Well, Bilbo Baggins, let me introduce you to your nephew, Frodo Baggins. Frodo, this is your uncle, the one I imagine you’ve heard much about in the Shire.”

Bilbo smiled softly. Frodo peeked up from under his thick fringe at him in return, his blue eyes wide and bright with awe. “H-hello,” the boy muttered, sticking his thumb in his mouth and looking away in embarrassment. 

“Hello Frodo, it’s a pleasure,” Bilbo said, reaching forward to shake the other hobbits hand. “It is so good to see you again, though we met so long ago. I hope we all get along wonderfully from now on.”

“M-me too.” Frodo nodded, cautiously shaking Bilbo had like he hadn’t expected to be treated like a grownup. They stared at each other for a moment in an odd sort of stand-off, Bilbo grinning maniacally as Frodo sort of gapped at him. Then suddenly, Frodo surged forward into a hug, wrapping his small arms around Bilbo’s middle and nuzzling against the baby’s bump. He trembled, maybe unaware of it, and Bilbo felt his heart swell with an overflow of affection for his nephew. The poor lad, he thought, who knew what sort of things he’d gone through.

“There’s a love, everything will be okay. You’ll see.” Bilbo patted the boy’s back as Thorin slipped an arm around his shoulder.

Frodo hiccupped, timidly glancing up at Thorin and Bilbo. “I’ll be living with you from now on?”

“Of course,” Thorin said, sharing a look with his husband. “Your family, we’ll take care of you.”

As if Thorin’s words were a signal, the others surged forward into the hug, Thrór and Finn the second to greet Frodo before Kili was picking the small hobbit up and crushing him against his chest. Frodo seemed overwhelmed by the welcome, clinging tight to the Prince as Kili nuzzled against his hair and Thrór whined about not being able to greet his cousin properly. Dwalin had to forcibly detach the two from each other just to allow Óin, Bofur, and the other’s to say their hellos, Beorn laughing loudly in the background as Gandalf sat back and watched the company meet the newest member of Bilbo’s family.

Thorin’s hand slipped down the omega’s waist, leaning down to kiss his husband’s cheek. “I’ll think he’ll fit in just fine.”

“Yeah,” Bilbo said softly with a smile, “I think he will too.”  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write a light-hearted and simple A/B/O fic and this is what happened, a multi-chapter fic. I'm just upset because most A/B/O fics are non-con and I just can't go there. Seriously, in this fic, a alpha in rut is really only combative to other alphas, and an omega is very rarely assaulted, even if an omega is in heat. Pretty much no matter the dynamic, they can knock someone up. Just alpha's have a better chance usually if it isn't with another alpha, and omegas are like super fertile either way, betas are just sort of normal except they have a harder time conceiving.
> 
> Eventually I will edit this. I've noticed a lot of mistakes re-reading it, but I want to finish the current BtaC chapter first.


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